Smiling Through Security

I was returning from Albuquerque after PSL last week. I was in the security line.

Airport security lines are unpredictable. Sometimes, they move at a regular pace. Sometimes, they move at an uneven pace. This one started off slow, and then zoomed. I was caught with my shoes still on. Uh oh.

I do have TSA pre-check, but I can almost never use it. Why? Because I have a knee replacement, and I set off the x-ray. It’s faster and easier to go through the regular lines and get the body scan.

This particular line had an incline for the bags. I had to push the bags up to go through their x-ray. Hmm, how was I going to take my shoes off and push the bags through?

The TSA gentleman asked me, “Are you over 75?”

Well, I cracked up. That slowed me down. I turned to the young man behind me, and said, “Sorry, my shoes will be in the middle of your stuff.”

We met on the other side. I complimented him on his boots, which were beautiful.

“Here are your shoes,” as he carefully placed my shoes on top of my coat. What a gentleman.

I asked him, “Do I look over 75?” Then I realized what I was asking. “Sorry, that’s like asking ‘Do my hips look big in these pants?’ You can’t win with a question like that.”

He smiled and said, “No, you don’t. My mom raised me right, but no, you don’t.”

I am older than a teenager. I call myself a middle-aged lady. I have gray hair and laugh lines. Other people might call them wrinkles, but I call them laugh lines. I look as if I have lived and not had Botox. But, I don’t look 75, not yet.